


Essence of Serendipity

by DeviousNymph



Series: Recipe for a Good Life [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), TiMER (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Minor Violence, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeviousNymph/pseuds/DeviousNymph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles finally gets his Timer, only to learn he's got less than four days before he'll be meeting his soulmate. That would be enough to give him a panic attack if there wasn't the business with the Alpha pack to worry about. Derek's Timer has been blank since the day it was imbedded, and he's always considered that a part of his punishment for the Hale Fire. When it suddenly comes to life saying he will meet his soulmate in four days can he overcome his issues while balancing his attempts to be a good alpha?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my Teen Wolf TimerAu. Essentially all of the events of season 1 and 2 happened, just with some of the characters walking around with Timers on their wrists and everyone knowing Lydia and Jackson were soulmates. 
> 
> Besides this being my first Teen Wolf fic, this is also the first time I have tried to do a crossover with Timers so let me give ya’ll a rundown that should give you a basic idea of what’s different. Timers are little devices imbedded into people’s inside wrist, with only a small screen showing a digital clock. When a person receives their timer (have to at least be 15) numbers will appear and start counting down or the clock will just be blank. The numbers counting down means that the person’s soul mate has a timer too and the countdown is telling them when they will meet. A person who’s clock is blank means that their soulmate has not had a timer implanted yet, but if their soulmate gets one then the numbers will appear to start the countdown.

Stiles had known from the moment his crush on Lydia was born that the chances of her being his soul mate were unlikely. She was… perfection and while Stiles was awesome he knew he would never quite reach her level.

Still, the day he passed by her in the hallway and saw numbers counting down on her wrist was devastating. The presence of those numbers combined with his blank wrist was proof, irrefutable proof - that she was meant to be with someone else. It was almost like those taunting numbers were reaffirming every negative comment someone had made about his popularity- Stiles was meant to be alone (Scott didn’t count; his presence was just a given). Like most emotionally ridiculous teenagers, he had pulled himself back together by the time the gossip train started going on about how the newest first line lacrosse player, John/Jason?, and Lydia had ran into each other in the front office and connected with an audience of twenty loose-lipped students. 

The whole idea was actually rather terrifying and more than a little unbelievable. Get a miniature clock imbedded into your wrist- Ow! -and through some vague but supposedly 100% accurate scientific method it tells you the exact moment you will meet your soulmate.

But it works. Stiles _knew_ it works, because it went off the day his mom and dad met. It was far enough back that they had the old version of timers that counted down to zero at midnight the day before you were due to meet your soul mate, not the countdown to the second of the meeting that they had since upgraded to, and his mother had been leaving the Beacon Hills library while his father was heading home from another day at the station. The instance their eyes met the timers had simultaneously beeped; his mother had burst into happy laughter, and the rest was history. A history of love and laughter, all the happiness in the world, before life had decided to be cruel and steal an amazing woman from the two men whose world revolved around her.

Anyway, Stiles had held off on getting one for himself (preferring to ignore the whole thing, because there was no guarantee that your soulmate was still alive or even had a timer and he had enough issues thank you) until his father had turned to him after Lydia’s stay in the hospital and asked him gently when he wanted to make the appointment. Apparently the fact that Lydia already had a soulmate had come up, and Stiles’ slight – really guys he knew there was no chance- admiration for her had reminded his dad that it was about time. Luckily the date they had scheduled ended up being a couple weeks after dealing with the kanima problem, so most of the time he could have potentially spent panicking had been taken up by being terrified that he was going to die. In fact he had forgotten about it until the afternoon he had come home from school to find his dad waiting to take him to the appointment.

“Dude, you actually got it?!” Scott’s enthusiasm was jarring as he leaned onto the locker right next to Stiles. 

“Scott! Bells… I’m going to get you a collar with bells on it,” Stiles grumbled sliding a couple of his books into place. “One day I’ll be holding something when you do that and you’ll end up stabbed.”

“I’d just heal. Now let me see!” Scott had become fascinated by the timers ever since meeting Allison. The fact that she was a hunter and had broken up with him had in no way diminished his enthusiasm for the topic. The only keeping him from it was the fact that his mom refused to sign off on it, meaning he had to wait until he was eighteen.

Sighing, Stiles extended his still tender wrist. Scott wasted no time in grabbing it so that he could catch a look at the numbers.

“Stiles, you’re going to meet your soulmate in a couple days! That’s so soon.” It was hard to tell if it was awe or disbelief coloring Scott’s voice, but either way it was not something on which Stiles wanted to dwell.

‘2 Days 15 Hours 3 Minutes 12 Seconds’ showed clearly on his timer. Less than three days, one day more than two… It was- overwhelming was too light of a word. Stiles had thought it would be installed and he’d have to wait years, putting this whole soulmate thing off as something to think of down the road. It made him think too much, too much about his own deficiencies and too much about the day twenty years ago when the youngest officer on the force ran into a sweet Russian girl outside the local library.

He tugged his wrist out of Scott’s arm. “Maybe you should focus less on my arm and more on how you’re going to pass today’s chemistry quiz.” Scott’s answering groan was like a balm for his soul as they pushed off from their lockers.

 **1D 19H 12M 53S**

It was not the first time that Stiles had been woken up in the middle of the night since Scott got bitten, but it was the first time the clatter had ever been enough to wake him up from a dream (that was thankfully rated pg) and send him tumbling off his bed.

“Damnit Scott!” Stiles groaned; limbs flailing as he struggled to free himself from the blankets and stand up at the same time. 

“Sorry.” Scott whispered, hands rising as if they could fend off his irritation. “You weren’t responding to your texts and I need your help.”

“What?” Finally freeing himself from the linen trap, Stiles automatically moved to get dressed. Scott wouldn’t be in his room unless it was important, or had thought of yet another way of getting Allison back. “Did Jackson turn scaly again? Has Peter decided to stop playing nice and go back to familial homicide? No, no, don’t tell me. Allison hopped on the crazy train again!”

“Stiles!” Scott somehow managed to look reprimanding and like a puppy asking for approval at the same time; it was like his secret super power – Well, the one he had had before receiving the bite. “Allison was going through a rough time. None of that was her fault.”

Stiles snorted, deciding to drop the subject before pocketing his cell phone and turning to Scott. “What’s the big emergency?”

“Isaac called. There’s a new group of Alpha werewolves. I don’t know anything more than that they have Erica and Boyd.”

**17H 2M 28S**

He had a hand pressed to his side and another running through Erica’s hair, feeling his own body start to relax as she finally stopped shaking from her latest seizure. Whatever the Alpha pack had hit her with was brutal; unlike the time with the Kanima venom this one seemed to last longer causing smaller but frequent seizures. The side effect had appeared to come as a surprise to the Alphas, but they had done nothing to fix it so it obviously wasn’t something they had a problem with happening.

Taking a shaky breath, and wincing once again as it pulled at the blood clotting on his side, Stiles shifted his grip on the girl in his lap. “So what life would you say you’re on? Three? Four? You’ve got to be more careful. I’d have nothing to do without Catwoman around to foil.”

Erica’s answering chuckle was wet and bitter, “It keeps up like this and you might have enough free time to find yourself a girlfriend.” It was a bad attempt to insult him, but it was still an attempt, and that meant Erica couldn’t be feeling too bad, right? It was ridiculous that he had ended up in this situation again (but whether it was better or worse than the other times was still up for debate). 

Derek had shown he was trying to improve by having Isaac call and tell Scott about the problem with Erica and Boyd as soon as they determined that the two had indeed been carted off by the Alphas. It hadn’t kept Scott from grumbling about working with him again, but it helped that by the time they hit up Deaton’s office Derek had already taken off to do some recon while Isaac and Deaton filled them in on the game plan (Peter was still not allowed back in the vet’s clinic, instead doing research on the Alpha Pack at the train depot). 

Stiles had been climbing back into his jeep after picking up the last of the ingredients Deaton said they would need for a magical defense against the group when a there was sharp pain at the back at his head followed by darkness. There had been a lot of times in the past couple months when he thought he might die – A lot. Tons of times when he thought he would be mauled and leave behind a body that could only be identified by dental records. Still, in all the times he had thought of death as a likely possibility it never seemed as likely as this time. He had struggled awake, just in time to hear a growling argument between two of the Alphas about how it didn’t matter how much he smelled like the pack- he was human and therefore useless for their needs. 

On one hand he appreciated that they didn’t consider him worth questioning, after Gerald’s little sending a message stunt (which he was only a little bitter about still, only a little), he’d met his lifetime quota. On the other, the Alphas figured out pretty quickly that Erica and Boyd did not feel the same as them, and fuck it hurt to know that he was being used against the two of them. 

Besides the one scratch on his side to remind everyone just how fragile he was, Stiles hadn’t been injured. Instead he had just had to watch Boyd attempt to soothe Erica during a seizure before the Alphas decided they wanted another talk with the male werewolf. Stiles had taken over comforting Erica since then, trying his hardest to keep focused on her instead of the sounds they could hear coming from Boyd in the other room and the fact that an Alpha could walk through the door and decide they were done keeping him around. He wasn’t the best at it, his and Erica’s relationship had only recently moved toward the more friendly side, but Stiles knew he had to do something when he noticed moisture threatening to fall from her eyes.

“Now that Jackson isn’t as evil anymore and the hunters have calmed down you should come back. Isaac told me – Well, he told Scott- about the whole taking off thing after Allison’s dad released you, which hey I get! But you know what; Derek actually did a really good job in the end. Isaac keeps going around like a puppy with a wagging tail, and right, right you guys do not appreciate dog references. Uh, someone set off the fire alarm in chemistry the other day, and for once it wasn’t Scott!” Stiles rambled, grasping for anything that could keep them both distracted from the fact that Boyd still hadn’t been returned to their cage and there were fewer noises making it through the door. It was hard now, although he was a little distracted by the image of a little puppy Isaac following Derek all over the place and trying to play with him. He’d roll over and try to get Derek to rub his tum- Oh My God, why hadn’t he thought of it sooner! “Erica, Erica. If you get pregnant are you going to have puppies?”

The answering growl shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was, but Stiles was willing to put up with as much growling as necessary as long as she wasn’t whimpering in pain.

**13H 45M 41S**

Stiles had to keep running, he could not stop running. If he stopped he was dead. If he stopped Erica was dead, and the stupid ass move Boyd just made would be all for nothing. There was no point in trying to be quiet as they thundered through the trees; the Alphas were fast and perfectly capable of tracking them by their smells. Their only hope was if Boyd could keep them distracted long enough for them to find the others… Stiles tried to ignore the thought that with the Alphas’ numbers even the others might not be enough to save them. He had to focus on the hand clasped in his and getting further and further away from the danger.

The seizures had finally stopped a few hours before, but even with the accelerated healing they had set off in her body, Erica was in nowhere near good shape. With all that she recovered, Erica was still the worse off of the two of them (and he had recently spent a session being terrorized and thrown around by one of the Alphas).

A howl sounded off in the distance behind them, spurning Stiles into another burst of speed while Erica looked back long enough to trip over a log, almost righting herself before going down with a pained gasp.

Stiles went back, grabbing at her arms to haul her back to her feet and go, succeeding momentarily before she went back down, unable to stifle a cry of pain. “My ankle, fuck I can’t run anymore.”

“Put your arm around my shoulders; we have to keep going.” Stiles grunted, hauling her back up to try and get them moving again. The howl was closer than it should have been; someone was already coming after them.

“No,” Erica loosened the arm from around his shoulder, lightly shoving him forward. “I’ll hold them off, start running.”

“What? Erica, no!”

“You don’t stand a chance against them, but I can give you more time to get safe.” She shoved him forward one last time, staggering as he was no longer there to act as support. “Run!”

He felt the panic bubbling up, clawing higher and higher through his body, preparing to burst forth at the first chance it got. Stiles was terrified, completely terrified, but despite that there was no way he could actually leave someone behind so that he could get away.

Then there was a roar. It was louder than any of the other howls he’d ever heard, loud enough that he felt it vibrating through his bones. And it was coming back from the way he came- one of the Alphas. It was both louder and further away than the one before it, but the fury and power in it was enough to kill the last of his hope. Boyd had to be dead by now; they’d have no problem catching up to Stiles and Erica.

Erica just collapsed and started laughing. It was the purest sound he had ever heard come from her mouth and while normally it would be disturbing, now he was just confused. “What?”

Tears started pouring out of her eyes, as she clutched at her stomach, “It’s Derek, Stiles! It’s Derek!”

**8H 36M 50S**

Stiles jolted awake at the knock on the hospital room door, another snooze ruined by a nurse wanting to check on him again. 

“If you’re here for blood, I’m warning you now I’ve run dry.” Sighing, Stiles looked up to give the nurse grimace, but stopped short when he saw it was Erica standing in the doorway.

For a moment he barely recognized her. The girl standing in the doorway barely looked like the wounded creature he had desperately been fleeing with. For starters, there was no blood to be seen, and Stiles knew he would never be able to erase the image of the Alpha descending on them in the forest clearing she had collapsed in, and the red that had stained her shoulder when claws slashed at her.

It was burned into his mind, the red that had stained her mouth as she found enough strength to tear into the Alpha before being tossed into a tree. Her lying red and still at the foot of the tree, the last image he glimpsed before a clawed fist had sent him to unconsciousness. 

“Hey Stiles.” She wandered in, arms crossed her chest, and moved to stand by his bed.

“The Alpha?” He had no idea what had happened since he was knocked out, just that someone had dropped him off unconscious at the front of the hospital. The few scratches he had made his nurses and dad refer to his injuries as a hiking accident, but he knew his dad would be giving him a real interrogation once he was feeling better.

“Was the only one to make it our way. Derek caught up to him after making sure the others were stuck in the trap they’d set.” Some of the tension that had been building in his shoulders released, and Erica seemed to take that as a sign that she could relax as well.

“The rest?”

“Derek tore them apart.” Erica replied almost flippantly, reaching out to cover one of his hands with hers while pointedly not acknowledging the interaction. “Between the trap Deaton helped him cook up and the others helping by weakening them, Derek got everyone of those bastards. Saved Boyd too.” There a soft smile crept over her face, relief shining in her eyes as she squeezed Stiles’ hand.

“Good, that’s good.” Maybe this time he wouldn’t be haunted by memories of the Alphas. It had taken him a couple weeks to stop jumping at little noises when he was alone, thinking that Gerard was lurking in the shadows around him. No, those overgrown mongrels wouldn’t be haunting him; with his luck it would be the memories of the blonde werewolf helpless in his arms that stuck to him. 

“Derek wants me to go home and let my mom know that I’m okay, but I’ll catch up with you later. I heard something about you not needing to stay the night so you’ll be free soon.” The softness was visible on her face for just a moment before it shifted into a leer, so much like her normal attitude that Stiles felt vaguely disoriented. “Have a good time getting to know your mate.”

It took him until her last wink for Stiles to figure out that Erica meant his timer, and that this entire time the thing had been counting down. He’s meeting his soulmate in eight hours. It was weird and a complete shift from the danger/pain/run that he had been stuck in the past day. His bruised and battered self was about to meet the one person in the world that would perfectly complete him… While he looked like he had been struck by a truck.

Still, the first thing he was going to do was hug the crap out of her. And maybe kiss her because kissing is awesome and life-affirming and she’ll be his soulmate, his for forever so she’ll forgive him for that greeting and holy shit he is just sixteen and he would be meeting the woman he would be spending the rest of his life with! Or the man, because if there ever was a time to be honest it is after almost dying at the hands of a sadistic Alpha werewolf, and thank god this wasn’t something his dad found out about while cleaning under Stiles’ bed after he died. Either way they were going to be perfect, so very perfect for Stiles, and there was hardly anything in his life that he can call anything close to perfect (not since right before the diagnosis, an outdoor picnic with both his parents and trying to catch fireflies while laughter burst from all around him). This was the forever love, the kind of love his mom and dad had had, the kind of love he had ached for, the kind of love that would absolutely kill him to lose. Because Stiles could lose them, just like he had lost his mother, could lose the one good thing he would have going for him.

“Kid, you okay?” The words were fuzzy, but it was his dad’s voice so he tried to concentrate, but it was getting harder to breathe. Fuck, another panic attack. He was having a panic attack. If he could take a breath, Stiles would have started laughing his ass off. He could handle light torture at the hands of monstrous werewolves, but just the thought of something fantastic happening to him was enough to send him freaking out.

**5M 10S**

His bed had never felt more comfortable. Never, despite all those other occasions he said the exact same thing. It was like lying in a cloud, a warm cloud of safety. Maybe if he kept his head buried under his blanket nothing could get him. That would be the best thing ever, he would never have to worry about someone jumping him in his sleep, and his dad would totally see the sense in installing a mini-fridge within arm’s reach. 

When was the last time he took his meds? Trying to keep his mind on a thought was like trying to catch a whiff of smoke in your hand, pretty impossible. It had to be the lack of meds… Or the painkillers they had given him at the hospital… Or the backhand he had taken from the Alpha.

The creak of the window drew him back to reality. Back to the moment and he froze, this was it, this was the moment. The realization made his chest tighten and his breathe quicken, while in the far corners of his mind he mused on the fact that he was way too comfortable with people randomly popping in through his window.

“How are you feeling?” The voice was deep and husky and so very familiar. 

Stiles looked up to meet Derek’s eyes, matching beeps erupting from their wrists as brown eyes meet green.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you goes out to my two wonderful betas! I doubt I would have posted this without you behind me.

For the first time since discovering his anchor Derek Hale thought he might lose control of himself. He was just way too excited! Today was it, the day he’d get his timer and have absolute proof that Kate Argent was his mate (sure people wouldn’t be entirely comfortable with the age difference, but it wouldn’t matter because it would be proven)! There would be no more sneaking around to meet her or constant showering so that the other wolves wouldn’t smell her on him; in addition, since she was his soulmate his family would have to accept that she had shunned the Hunter ways of her family.

The devastation he felt when the timer’s screen remained blank after startup was absolutely consuming. Kate already had a blank timer; with his on they should have both started counting down, and then he’d be able to surprise her with both the timer and the romantic picnic he had planned. This… This was wrong; he loved her- truly and deeply. She had to be the one.

It was pure desperation that had him going to school the next day. Everyone in his family was walking around him on tiptoes, able to tell he was upset but not quite understanding why. It was pretty normal for a fifteen year-old’s timer to be blank, and Derek didn’t want to have to try and lie to them when they eventually asked him what was wrong.

Every step he took was like walking through mud; he was in love with a fantastic beautiful woman who knew his secret and accepted him anyway, but she wasn’t his mate. Derek had no idea of what to do with that information.

Of course, by the end of the day he had learned the real meaning of despair. It coated the back of his throat with thick black smoke, stung his eyes as he desperately tried to keep them filled with liquid, and ripped his heart into so many pieces that Derek knew it would never be the same. He would never be able to tell anyone what he did right after the fire; all he knew was that Laura had taken care of him, just like she would for years to come.

(Years later he would revisit the feeling while watching Kate take a break from torturing him to pull her fake timer off her wrist. Her taunts were sharp and accurate, but just the knowledge that it had been a fake from the very beginning was worse than torture she put him through; another twist of the knife that was their entire relationship.)

After the fire- after the destruction of his whole world- Derek knew that the blank timer was a part of his punishment. Any werewolf who gave an enemy the information needed to destroy their entire pack didn’t deserve a mate. He didn’t deserve the perfect happiness that would have come with finding his true mate, the connection that he had witnessed between many of the couples in his family – his incredibly happy family. 

So Derek placed all his dreams of finally meeting his mate into a little box in his mind, only taking them out and examining them the few times he needed to remind himself of all that his stupidity had cost him. By the time he felt his connection to Laura sputter and die it had been years since he had even looked at the thing. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek probably wouldn’t have even noticed the numbers appearing on his wrist if it had not been accompanied by a single beep. Setting down the map he was using to contemplate their next move (Derek couldn’t entirely trust Scott’s claim that he had not told Gerard about the train depot no matter what his heartbeat said), Derek casually glanced down at his wrist – after all these years it had probably died. Maybe he could finally look into having it removed.

4 Days 1 Hours 24 Minutes 58 Seconds - The shock was enough to send him staggering away from the table he had been working at. No, it wasn’t possible. It was a malfunction or Peter was playing some trick on him to fuck with his head.

That box, that dust-covered box started to creak open- childish dreams of what life would be like with his mate momentarily threatening to overwhelm all his concerns. None of that mattered; Derek was not meeting his mate and definitely not bonding with anyone. His was a life of anger and guilt; despite the lighter moments he had managed to experience with his fledgling pack, Derek knew that the kind of happiness the timer represented was not for him. It didn’t exist.

Storming from the common area, Derek knew he had to get himself under control before Isaac or Peter showed back up. The timer and all the stupid feelings that came with it were inconsequential. He quickly stripped off his shirt, immediately dropping to the floor. As his body fell into the push-ups that started his normal workout routine, Derek tried to calm the overwhelming thoughts crowding his mind. They knew the Alpha pack was out there, and he was definitely not fit to be tied to anyone. No matter what happened, if his timer really went off then he would just walk away. Derek Hale didn’t need to ruin anyone else’s life.

**2D 18H 25M 13S**

Between the shock during the day and the ruthless workout he had forced himself through afterward, Derek shouldn’t have been so surprised to have slept peacefully. It was a rarity these days; if his past wasn’t haunting him then he was being confronted with the realities his failure as an Alpha could cause. The fact that it was quickly broken by Isaac thundering into the building and calling out to him was not a surprise; peaceful moments rarely lasted long for Derek.

Rolling off the mattress, Derek crossed the room and grabbed a roll of bandages from a first aid kit. Quickly wrapping it around his wrist without looking at the timer, Derek pulled on a long sleeve shirt before joining Isaac in the common area. He had sent the younger wolf out to practice scenting, told him to pick a target and track them around town. It wasn’t an easy task, but as rough and inexperienced as Derek was with teaching, Isaac had impressed him by soaking up as much knowledge about being a werewolf that he could give him. The day Deaton had shown the Beta how to heal his eyes had shown so brightly with pride that Derek thought they would explode. (It was a bittersweet reminder of Derek’s own childhood; bursting through the front door to show off his grades to his family or howling in delight as he finally managed to shift just his claws like his parents.)

“I decided to follow Erica,” Isaac started, knowing Derek well enough to know that since he was clearly upset it was best to get to the point. The Betas had found that giving Derek time to imagine what the problem was usually ended up sending him to a much darker place than any of them intended, even that time Erica was upset because her favorite pair of shoes were ruined. “I followed her scent into the woods, and Derek, she and Boyd ran into a group of wolves.”

There was a tense moment where Derek thought he was going to have to repeat that the couple had made a choice to leave, and that he could not (would not, he would never sink so low as to force someone be a member of his pack, no matter how much it hurt him to have to let them go) do anything about it. Isaac was smart enough to put a stop to it before he had too.

“I smelt blood, lots of blood.” It was moments like these that made Issac’s childhood traumas stick out; his cocky front replaced with posture making him look small and unsure, arms defensively crossed over his chest, almost like he was hugging himself. Tentatively Derek reached out to clasp a hand on Isaac’s shoulder; touch had always been the other Betas best way to ease the teenager through any of these moments. Derek had managed to provide it for him a couple times, but he needed to be better at this stuff, even if it meant forcing himself outside his own comfort zone. 

They only stood there for a few moments before a metallic groan slide out of the silence of the train depot and Peter stepped out of the shadows to examine Isaac and Derek. Shifting his posture, Derek removed the hand steadying Isaac, and curled it into a fist at his side, meeting Peter’s eyes until the Beta lowered them in submission. If the pack bond had really been shattered from Erica and Boyd’s end then they would have nothing stopping them from revealing all of the pack’s weaknesses. (He refused to admit that his decision was also because he liked the teenagers, there was no reason to make their eventual permanent departure hurt any more.)

“Lead us there Isaac.”

**1D 10H 36M 57S**

He wanted to believe that he could do this, that he could learn how to be great at the role that had never been intended to be his. Laura had been a great Alpha, she wouldn’t have had nearly as much trouble with something as simple as recon. It just hurt to have to stand there and listen to Erica’s screams coming from the cabin, but he had no choice. They had counted at least five Alphas since discovering the cabin; if Derek burst in there by himself then he could guarantee that Erica, Boyd and himself would end up dead. Chances were the Alphas would then go after all the others in Beacon Hills, Derek couldn’t let that happen. They had to play this smart.

Still it was only the knowledge that the smell of his blood would give away his position that kept Derek from trying to dig his claws into his legs. The urge to howl, to fight and protect what was his was almost too great, but he had to find a way to do this. Derek would do this; as long as he did this job then he could keep the other teens from being forced to hear their friends’ screams of pain. He just hoped that the others finished gathering the supplies for the trap they were relying on soon; he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to take this.

**16H 27M 1S**

Things escalated quickly after he switched out with Peter to try and force himself to get some rest before they put their plan in action. On one hand he didn’t receive the horrible news he had expected (apparently Peter had listened to his orders that the crazy ex-alpha was not allowed to kill any of the Alpha pack, because Derek had meant it when he growled that he would kill his uncle again if the older Hale ended up an Alpha again), but on the other it was still horrible news. The Alphas had grabbed Stiles, and while Stiles was a pain in the ass on a good day he was still on their side. The smartass kid shouldn’t have even been involved in this anymore. Why couldn’t the human see that this shit was just going to get him killed?

Derek growled as he parked his Camaro, attempting to ignore the mental reminders that Stiles had saved his life on more than one occasion. He was ready to get this business with the Alpha Pack over with. Just this last meeting to go over the plan stood between him and his lost Betas. (When he had decided that they were still his until they found another pack to adopt them Derek wasn’t quite sure.)

Before he had finished taking one step through the door of the clinic he was already checking the scent of the place. Deaton was too much of a mystery for him to completely trust, no matter what the vet had promised his mother. Isaac stood out immediately, an instant connection to his pack that called out to him; Deaton, Scott, and some strange combination that made him want to viciously scrub his nose if he concentrated on it. There were others... Jackson and Lydia. (Isaac’s texts had told him that Jackson's initial response had been to fuck off, but after news of Stiles being grabbed hit Lydia had bullied him into helping).

Under all that there was something else. It was someone’s scent, but so weak that it was obviously someone who had been gone awhile. It bugged Derek, tugged at his attention the entire time they were going over the plan. He ignored the looks Peter threw his way (finally let in with the understanding that all of them were prepared if he so much as gave them a dirty look) the few times he allowed it to draw his attention away, but luckily Deaton was quick to explain how the magic trap would work and Scott managed to contain his contempt for Derek long enough to not argue about anything the Alpha planned out.

Still a mystery scent wasn’t enough to distract him from the fact that his youngest Beta was clearly upset. Hanging back as the others left the room to get in their cars; Derek jerked his head for Isaac to stay, waiting for the door to close behind the others before moving to his side. If Isaac wasn’t willing to approach him about it himself then he’d just stay with him and wait.

“Are they going to be okay?” Isaac mumbled, body tilting towards Derek as he examined the floor. All three of Derek’s teenaged Betas had been close, so close that Isaac had almost gone with them. The talk they had had after fixing Jackson had been enlightening about Isaac’s reasons to stay and had given him new respect for his young Beta. If the kid could hang in a little longer he would make a great second (Peter clearly had more experience, but Derek didn’t think he’d ever be able to trust him in a position of power again. Only the thought of having to kill his last remaining family member for a second time had kept the Alpha from killing his uncle after the ex-Alpha’s initial rise from the grave.) “You wouldn’t let me do recon even though it’s what I’ve been training for, so that means whatever is happening to them is really bad.” 

“I don’t know,” Derek sighed, wishing he could lie to Isaac, give him the small comfort of that. Despite what Scott believed, Derek had never once lied to his Betas, even before they had learned to detect them. He had been honest about the situation in Beacon Hills and life as a werewolf, and while a part of him ached to have been able to make them a part of the pack in peace, this was their reality.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure they make it out of there,” Moving his hand to squeeze Isaac in reassurance came easier this time and he just stood there while Isaac took deep, shaky breaths. He could do this; he could be the strong Alpha for his Beta. After a couple minutes the Beta nodded his head before heading out the door, Derek had him riding with Scott to make sure the kid didn’t pull out anymore surprises on them.

It wasn't until he had climbed into his own car and was about to start it that he suddenly realized he missed the mysterious scent now that he was away from it. That was the spark Derek needed to realize that it might have something to do with his mate. He had been successful in ignoring the whole thing thanks to the business with the Alphas, but the idea that _his_ mate had been at the same place sometime recently hit him hard. Gripping hard onto the steering wheel, Derek tried to struggle for control against something he had never needed to fight before- himself.

Being born a werewolf he'd been raised on stories about finding your true mate. For centuries it had been a struggle for most werewolves, their secret too large a secret for them to go wandering around just to look for their one. The existence of timers changed that, wolves had to change the implanting of the device a little so that it wouldn't be rejected by their bodies, but after figuring that out there had been over three times as many wolves finding their true mates (soulmates was the term used outside the supernatural community) than ever before.

Most bitten werewolves made a big deal about coming to terms with their wolf, but for those like Derek wolf and man were one from the beginning. There was no separation- he and it, they moved together as one, were one as far as he was concerned. So for him to suddenly feel as though he had to fight against a part of himself was alien. The stories had said that once you found them you would feel the urge to constantly be by their side; they had said a lot of things about finding your mate, but Derek had never thought that he might not actually have a choice. This kind of struggle was one that nothing had prepared him for.

It had been concentration on the screams he had heard throughout the past day that gave him enough sense of self to start the car and head to the rendezvous point.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He had been lucky, the closer he snuck to the hideout the more in control he had felt. He was no longer a man fighting a wolf’s instincts. He could do this, rescue the others, get the Alphas out of his town, and then figure out a way to cage himself until this whole mate business passed by.

Laughter echoed throughout the woods, growing louder as he approached the cabin. Derek heard faint crashing sounds in the distance, but hoped that whatever was keeping them laughing would be enough to distract them from whichever of the others was making so much racket. That brief thought of hope soured in his stomach as soon as he was close enough to learn its cause; all his hard-earned control almost flying out the window as his eyes took in the scene. Right out front of the Alphas’ cabin two of them were leaning against the building, laughing as a figure struggled to get away… 

It was Boyd, almost unrecognizable he was so covered in blood, slashing wounds covered his body as he desperately tried to drag himself away from the cabin with one arm. Derek’s vision bled red as he focused on the other arm barely attached to the teenager and the blood dripping from the visible Alphas’ hands.

They had a plan, a carefully constructed plan. He couldn't go and ruin it by losing control now, and if Boyd looked like this who knows what they would have to deal with when they found the others. Derek had to make the hard call, he was the Alpha and he had to do what was best for everyone- no matter how much it hurt him to not rush out right away. He had failed before; failed his family, his sister, Scott, Jackson, and all his Betas- He couldn’t fail this time. 

Slow trembling breaths helped him control the urge to shift. Just a little longer and the others would be in place, just a little longer and then he could give the signal. This time he allowed the claws to form on one hand, not hesitating to drive them into his thigh. There was enough blood flowing that a little more wouldn’t tip off the Alphas and the pain would help him focus his control. One deep breath later, Derek removed his claws and forced his eyes to check his watch. A werewolf could heal from a lot, but they had to do something soon if there was any chance of Boyd surviving. 

“Idiots!” The harsh shout drew his attention, another of the Alphas (an older woman this time) stood at the cabin door growling at the others. “You were supposed to go after them not sit around and play with the already dead.” She lunged at one, shifting into the Beta form before slashing her claws over his side and then darting to the other to snap his arm before taking off into the woods.

One taking off they could handle, as long as they could trap the majority of the group they could manage to hunt the other down later. Derek checked the time again, a few more minutes and he’d be able to go help-

The wind changed direction, bringing with it a sweet scent- heartbreakingly familiar and mixed with notes of blood and pain. All control was forgotten as for the first time Derek harnessed all his power and transformed into the Alpha wolf form. Roaring he abandoned his post to follow after the running Alpha.

**58M 14S**

Exhaustion settled into his bones as he shifted around the burned remains of his childhood. Boyd had healed enough to be safely ensconced back at the train depot with Isaac and Peter, while Erica was tucked away in her bedroom after a huge argument with her mother about her ‘running off with a boy’ (Derek would never admit it, but he had made already made multiple rounds of the town just to be sure they were all safe…. even Scott). Still, there was a restlessness that wouldn’t let him settle down.

He knew what it was, knew that it had to do with the numbers silently ticking down on his wrist and the one person he couldn’t bring himself to go check on- despite grilling Erica on every detail of his condition… Despite the hours he’d spent in the hospital’s waiting room straining to hear his mate’s heartbeat floors above. Derek could feel himself teetering on the edge of control again, and as much as he wanted to fight tooth and nail against it he wasn’t sure he had the strength for it.

His shifting and launching the attack early had worked out alright, better than fine in fact- the two hostages that had escaped into the woods probably would have died if he hadn’t lost control when he did. Still, it was way too soon after his last lapse to risk another. The decision was made before he really acknowledged it, his footsteps carrying out of the Hale House and towards town. He wasn’t going to just take off running; he would casually make his way through the town because he was in control of himself. Hackles he hadn’t realized were raised calmed down the further he went, while a thick knot of anxiety twisted in his stomach.

It was only once the danger had past, when he was back in human form and had time to actually think instead of just react to the chaos around him that the weight of what had happened set in. He’d smelt his mate in danger and automatically shifted to protect him- tearing apart one of the strongest of the Alphas by taking them by surprise. Derek sighed, running a thumb over the timer’s face as he stared at the numbers (the bandage hadn’t stood a chance of surviving the battle), this whole business couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Derek thought he should have been shocked by the discovery- enraged maybe by the hand fate had dealt him (How could he have not noticed it earlier? He had been close enough to smell his mate plenty of times before, and if his newly turned Betas had been able to identify each other then why couldn’t he?). Strangely enough the thought of the teenager as his mate actually felt… right, like it made perfect sense. He was too exhausted to think about it too much. All that mattered was placating the wolf and then getting away from Stiles.

Standing outside the Stilinski house was strange, he hadn’t expected to ever need to return, but then there were a lot of things about this situation he’d never expected. The moment Derek came in range all his senses focused on the presence upstairs; still slightly bloody, very much wounded, but with a strong heartbeat that calmed Derek more than any verbal assurances had.

The leap onto the roof took nothing out of him at all, but he took a moment outside the window. He was so close to his mate, and all he wanted to do was burst in there and wrap him up and keep him safe forever. He had destroyed the Alpha pack to protect him and Derek would do it again and again if he had too-

Breathe deep, Derek reminded himself. Stiles was just a kid and Derek was no Kate Argent. This was all just a big mistake, he’d go in to satisfy his stupid drive to check on his mate and then bail, there was no way in hell he was actually going to let this happen. Gently sliding the window open (which really needed a nice lock installed), Derek climbed into Stiles’ bedroom.

“How are you feeling?” It was probably the most ridiculous way anyone had ever greeted their mate, it was obvious he was still in pain. Derek was exhausted and fuck his voice had deepened, a perfect betrayal of the dirty thoughts about claiming that had popped up the second he saw the lean teenager sprawled out on the bed, but this was still exactly what he needed right now.

Stiles looked up, and fuck, in that moment Derek could have sworn he was the most beautiful person ever- beautiful, alive, and _his_.

This time Derek didn’t even notice the beeps pouring from their timers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! My betas deserve a thousand hugs for the whining they had to put up while I was writing this. 
> 
> Chapter 3 was hard to write and does not have a happy ending. However, this is not the end of Stiles and Derek's story. The next fic in this series will be a continuation of their story, featuring much more of the others. I hope most of you decide to stick around to see what happens.

For a moment Stiles only heard the beeps chiming from both timers, and he clung to the sound while his mind tried to process the revelation. Once again he cursed the Alphas, if it hadn’t been for their manhandling and the pain medication he had been put on as a result of it, then maybe he would be able to turn his thoughts to the problem at hand instead of barely being able to hold onto the wisps currently floating through it.

“Derek… You’re… What?” It wasn’t his most eloquent moment, but it got his point across.

A furrow developed on Derek’s forehead as he gave Stiles a strange look, “I asked how you are feeling?”

Stiles slid a hand over his face, maybe he was hallucinating. There was no way that his soulmate could be Derek Sourwolf Hale. It was not possible that the universe had decided his nerdy ass belonged with a smoking-hot alpha werewolf. The cosmic joke known as his life had to be fucking with him; that was the only explanation.

“No, seriously, what is this shit?” Stiles grumbled, flopping back onto his bed while trying to ignore his body’s discomfort. If he was going to be hallucinating then at least he was going to be comfortable. “Ugh, I never should have let them give me so many pain meds.”

“Erica said you made them put you on something pretty mild?” Derek frowned, only waiting long enough for a guilty look to cross Stiles’ face before closing the space between himself and the bed, carefully reaching forward to touch the ankle poking out of the bottom of the blanket. Immediately black veins crawled up his arm, his frown disappearing as he took Stiles’ pain into himself. “Does that help?”

“... Thanks.” Stiles smiled as the pain he felt faded away. He had refused their recommended dosage of pain medication; the stuff had always wreaked havoc on his mind if he took too much and the lower dosage had made even just lying down a reminder of his beating. He was pretty sure his current issues had more to do with the head injury than the actual medication, but it was always better for his mental health to pretend it was the meds. At least now that he could think beyond the pain he could start pestering Derek for answers about what was going on.

Derek tried to keep from preening: his mate had been in pain and he had been able to relieve it; rival alphas had threatened his pack and he had destroyed them. He was finally managing to be a good Alpha, a great mate. Stiles had started babbling, but while that fact registered in the back his mind, Derek felt himself stuck circling one thought. Why was he just standing there barely touching his mate?

Stiles eventually let his chatter trail off; Derek was clearly not listening to him. The only sign the guy was even alive was an occasional deep inhale, perfectly still despite the weird black veins his arm was sporting. Tentatively he reached out to Derek, softly questioning, “Derek?”

The older man’s head snapped towards Stiles, eyes suddenly red. The sight of that red glow made Stiles flinch, the memory of his time with the Alpha pack threatened to overwhelm him. “Derek?”

This time Derek reacted, suddenly crawling onto the bed, careful not to aggravate his mate’s wounds as he made his way to the head of the bed. The sudden red eyes initially sent a jolt of fear spiking through Stiles’ heart, but unlike the other times he had seen that red glow lately there was no threat of violence with them; in fact Derek’s were practically cloudy with... Contentedness. It kept him from completely freaking out, but Stiles could only look on in confusion as Derek settled on his side right next to Stiles. 

It was strange, having his side pressed against the front of Derek’s body and not feeling threatened. It seemed like the only time Derek ever let anyone this close was when violence was involved. Stiles took a deep breath, trying to keep calm as he observed from the corner of his eye the older man staring at him. All the werewolves he knew had pulled some pretty strange stuff on him a time or two, but none had ever had the audacity to just climb in bed with him (not that he put that past Erica, girlfriend would do anything she wanted). Eventually he couldn’t help himself; Stiles turned his head to glare at Derek, meeting his red eyes before grumbling, “What?”

A heartbeat passed and then another before Derek leaned in, eyes moving from Stiles to focus on his lips, and for an instant the teenager swore that Derek must be hearing his heart attempt to explode. Stiles had to be hallucinating; there was no way Derek Hale would look at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world. The irritation he had been feeling melted away into a confused curiosity as Derek’s hand moved to softly cradle his face.

Derek keep his touch light as he tilted Stiles’ chin up, close enough now for Derek’s breath to lightly caress the teenager’s face. His eyes lifted to briefly meet Stiles’ curious gaze before they moved back, Derek lowering himself to gently press a kiss to Stiles’ lips. Stiles had seen the strength possessed by the werewolves that surrounded him; he had seen how little effort it took for them to exert some of their great strength. The delicate kiss Derek pressed against his lips was the last thing Stiles expected. It was warm and gentle; between the lips moving softly against his own and the thumbs caressing his cheeks, Stiles wasn’t sure if he had ever felt more cherished. Normally this was the time when he would have freaked out.

Instead Stiles could feel a spark blooming deep in his chest; a precious feeling that grew the longer Derek’s lips touched his. All he could do was shut his eyes and surrender himself to it.

When Derek came back to himself, it was one sense at a time. First his hearing, the soft sound of flesh against flesh and pleased sighs, and then touch, warmth all along his body, soft yet solid. The smell- that absolutely perfect scent surrounded him. His sight didn’t matter; he had closed his eyes to focus on everything else a long time ago. And taste- There was a tantalizing hint of a taste, something his mind labeled as mine/perfection/right, but it was only a hint. He wanted more, so Derek gently slipped his tongue out to seek it-

That’s when the reality of what he was doing crashed down upon him, and with a growl he threw himself away from Stiles, off the bed, and across the room.

“What, no – Derek get back over here.” Stiles whined, pointedly ignoring the grabby hands he suddenly developed; nobody would be able to resist turning into a three year-old if someone at Derek Hale levels of hotness suddenly stopped kissing you.

It was years of controlling himself that let Derek keep his panic from showing. He lost himself again, and it doesn’t matter that he feels better now, better than he’s felt since before the fire, he can’t let this continue. Derek Hale is not going to inflict himself upon anyone else. He made himself a pack because he had no choice if he wanted to survive, but he doesn’t have to have anything to do his mate. It’s the best thing he can offer Stiles- freedom from Derek.

“No. No, Stiles.” Derek turned angry, visibly angry, fist clenched as he struggled to keep himself from waking the Sheriff. “No, Stiles. This isn’t happening.”

“What? What are you talking about you were just-“ 

“Not happening. I don’t care what these pieces of junk say.”

The fog that had clouded Stiles mind all day, part-pain, part-medication and now part-hormones, parted leaving nothing but stark clarity and burning rage. “That’s bullshit! You’re the one who came into my room, spent five minutes fucking sniffing me, and then after giving me some china doll kiss you’re telling me this isn’t happening. Fuck you Derek because you clearly have no idea of what you’re talking about.” Only the knowledge that movement would bring him more pain kept Stiles from madly gesturing, instead he was forced to rely on his glare to help emphasize his point.

Derek’s sudden stillness would normally have provided a warning for Stiles to stop, or start backtracking to safer ground, but he was too riled up to recognize the signs, too focused on chewing Derek out. The older man’s eyes glowed red as Derek snarled, claws slipping out as he flashed fang at his injured mat- teenager. Derek knew what he had to do to end this. It wouldn’t be easy and it would hurt Derek just as much as it would hurt Stiles, but he had to do it. Since the kid really was his mate, Derek had to do everything in his power to save him. (He tried to ignore the little voice in his head that said he had already done enough damage tonight by kissing the minor; tried even harder to ignore how it sounded like Kate’s voice taunting him).

Taking one last deep breath, Derek poured every ounce of arrogance and disgust he could produce into his face and voice before directing it at Stiles, “Did you really think that I’d put up with you as my soulmate?” Laura had always said he’d be a great actor as long he was never required to be in character for more than five minutes. It was a bittersweet memory, but Derek pushed it all away, focusing on deceiving Stiles and getting away. “Look at you; you’re nothing more than a scrawny _child_. Why would I possibly want to be with you?”

Derek could tell by the way that Stiles silently moved his lips that he had taken the teenager off guard. The sharp anger that had been radiating from his eyes as he ranted at Derek was starting to fade, slowly transforming him from opponent to wounded victim. Derek couldn’t stop there. “You’ve been nothing more than an annoyance, extra baggage we constantly have to protect. Hell, Scott would never have gotten in any of this mess if you hadn’t dragged him out that night. Think about all the pain and suffering you put your best friend through.” That one managed to earn a wounded whine, as if Stiles wanted to argue, but truly believed in what Derek was saying.

“You aren’t even good enough to relieve a little physical tension with.” It hurt just to say it all, because Derek knew that what he was saying was completely untrue. Stiles had proven that he was anything but weak, but Derek knew Stiles well enough to know that his words would strike at his insecurities. All it took was a glance at his mate’s eyes to know that his blow had struck true; the teenager’s eyes had always exposed his feelings even when he wanted them hidden. Stiles sat stunned, hurt/grief and anger at war in his eyes before settling on hurt.

It wasn’t until he heard Stiles give a shaky sigh and move to speak that Derek decided to make his exit, as though anything Stiles had to say wasn’t worth his time. Directing one last growl and flash of red eyes at the teenager, Derek stormed across the room to leap out of the window, resisting the urge to claw at something along his way.

The sudden stillness of the room felt empty and wrong. Stiles now knew who his soul mate was, but what was supposed to be a joyous beautiful moment (and had been for a few terrifying perfect minutes) had turned into nothing more than another tally in the ‘just how fucked-up is Stiles’ life is’ column. He felt moisture running down his cheeks, as he clenched his hands into his blanket, desperately trying to hold himself away from his grief. It didn’t work. The clarity he had achieved while arguing with Derek was quickly fading, a fog descending on him as the cruel words his soul mate had spoken played on a loop in his mind- Words that he was already guilty of thinking on many occasions.

The first sob took Stiles by surprise. It had been ages since he had allowed himself more than a few tears; an outright crying breakdown hadn’t happened since right after his mother’s death. His mother had spent the time before her death retelling many of her favorite memories (most frequently the day she met his father), and one sad night when it was just the two of them close to the end she had made Stiles promise that no matter what grief he saw his father in after her death to please keep his heart open for his soul mate. She had hugged him close and said no matter how much it hurt in the end the time together was worth it.

Those had been words he clung to as he struggled to come to terms with his own grief and the grief that sent his father reaching for a whiskey bottle for comfort. The ones he clung to as the timer was injected into his wrist, what he remembered as the girl he loved from afar for so long walked by with her new found soul mate. He had built his life after his mother’s death around the care of two people- his father and future soul mate- Only for all the hopes and dreams he had been nurturing to be destroyed barely twenty minutes after the big reveal.

Gasping for breath between his sobs, Stiles curled himself into a ball and drew a blanket over his head aching for oblivion.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Derek ran, hard and fast, focused on getting away from Stiles. He had to get away from the town, away from everything and everyone. He had had no time to process anything the past couple days, nothing since the moment Isaac had brought him the discovery of Erica’s scent. It was insane that they had all survived. The chances of a rag-tag pack like his surviving an encounter with an Alpha pack had practically been obsolete. It had only been his willingness to trust Scott’s plan to ask Deaton for magic help (Isaac, he had really trusted in Isaac’s faith that Scott’s plan would work) and tapping into the hidden reserves of his own powers. Derek honestly didn’t know if he would have been able to call upon that strength if he hadn’t sensed that his mate was in danger.

The discovery should have been a good one, but instead he felt the entire incident sit heavy in his gut. The entire battle had started picking at his conscious from the moment he had returned to himself. 

It had been his rage and an urge to protect his mate that had caused him to shift unexpectedly into his Alpha form.

He had chased after the departing alpha, howling his rage as he allowed his senses to guide him. All his memories after the initial change were disjointed, his mind too consumed by his instincts for him to remember it all. What he remembered was smelling blood- blood of his pack, blood of his mate. He remembered tearing into the alpha with traces of their blood on her. There had been teeth chomping at his arms and claws tearing at his side, but the alpha’s beta form had nothing on his more animalistic one and with a satisfying crunch he had ripped the Alpha’s head off. Other members of his pack had descended on the clearing, an uncertainty if he should let them near, and then acquisition after a reminder of who was in charge. It had been hard, but he allowed them to help their fallen pack members- allowed them to take his mate away.

He was the alpha and as much as he felt the urge to stick to his mate’s side he had a responsibility to his entire pack, and one of them still lay within enemy hands. There was no compassion, no mercy left in Derek as he dealt with the remaining alphas. They had kidnapped his betas, tortured them and his mate. They would have torn apart his entire pack for fun and laughed as they did it. From the moment he shifted their futures consisted only of pain and suffering.

Looking back it was probably a good thing that Jackson and Scott had been the two to take Erica and Stiles for medical help. Peter and Isaac were used to the ruthlessness that came with fighting for your life and, despite being human, Lydia had no qualms about eliminating an enemy. Derek remembered the smell of the Molotov cocktails she had produced for them to chunk at the trapped Alphas, the flash of fire that often danced in his nightmares, and slowing heartbeat of his remaining injured beta. The relief he felt when she broke the mountain ash line that kept him from his targets.

While the others had helped to weaken them, it was Derek who moved to kill each one. It was Derek who had taken pleasure in every one of their deaths. Shaking his head, Derek pulled himself back to the present. Losing control like that was unforgivable at his age; he had to get himself back under control. This business with his timer and Stiles was just a temporary distraction, he had ended it and now he could focus on taking care of himself.

Finally deep enough in the preserve, Derek shifted partially, immediately moving to take swipe after swipe at the closest tree, trying to funnel all his grief, his anger, his guilt into the physical. It was something he had become well practiced at ever since the fire. Only this time no matter how much strength he put behind his punches, no matter how hard he tore with his claws, he could find no relief. There was no escaping the feelings clawing at his heart.

Derek threw his head back and let loose a howl for all Beacon Hills to hear, pouring all his grief into it.


End file.
